


The Beauty of a Bad Idea

by nothingisreal



Category: GP2 Series RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingisreal/pseuds/nothingisreal
Summary: Mitch didn’t notice what was happening until it was too late. [...] Nothing he could do about it then. But, to be fair, he didn’t think he could’ve done anything about it, even if he’d noticed earlier.





	The Beauty of a Bad Idea

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language, no beta.

Mitch didn’t notice what was happening until it was too late. It just suddenly hit him as he looked up at Artem on that podium (his first!), grinning and so fucking proud of himself. Only then did he realise that he’d fallen for his teammate. Nothing he could do about it then. But, to be fair, he didn’t think he could’ve done anything about it, even if he’d noticed earlier. There was just something about Artem that drew Mitch in, made him want to do stupid shit because he couldn’t _think_ clearly when Artem was anywhere near him.

And then Alex came up to him the next day, his face red and his voice shaky as he asked Mitch to fuck him. Them having sex wasn’t anything new, because it was easy and practical. But they’d never done it this way before, each time they fucked, it was always Alex inside Mitch. It was Alex’s first time, Mitch knew it, knew he shouldn’t be doing this, certainly not while imagining - _wishing_ \- it was somebody else. He felt like shit afterwards but Alex didn’t seem to notice.

To be honest, he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. The thing between him and Alex wasn’t serious, they were just friends who fucked from time to time (okay, so maybe a bit more often than that). But he was getting the impression that the lines in Alex’s mind were beginning to blur, though he didn’t think Alex himself had noticed yet. And he couldn’t bring himself to break it off, even though he should have for so many reasons.

First race with the new team was weird; he was so used to having Artem around, he couldn’t come to terms with him not being there anymore. Obviously, they were in the same paddock but they were wearing different colours and sitting in different garages and Mitch suddenly felt a little bit like crying when he realised this. Alex sucked him off in the evening and Mitch tried to pretend he wasn’t seeing Artem’s face when he closed his eyes.

“I really like you.” Alex mumbled against the back of Mitch’s neck, his arm wrapped around Mitch’s waist. Mitch couldn’t force himself to reply, instead choosing to pull Alex more snuggly against his back. He wondered when this would stop being enough, when Alex would start demanding answers, if he’d even realised he needed them yet; but he never asked and Mitch certainly wasn’t going to volunteer.

And then Artem pushed him up against a wall after he’d won in Monaco and kissed him and Mitch thought he might cry again. He didn’t, instead he fisted his hands in the back of Artem’s T-shirt, pulled him closer until there wasn’t any space between their bodies. He went down on Artem right there, in the empty Campos Racing garage, and refused to think about it.

He finally had a breakdown later that evening, cried himself to sleep curled up into fetal position on his hotel bed, his phone beside him, a photo of him and Artem from last year on the screen. He wondered if this was cheating. But on whom would he be cheating anyway? He’d never made any promises.

Nobody could find out about what he was doing with Artem (were they even doing anything? Or was that just a one-off?), but then he also didn’t want anyone to know about him and Alex. There was gossip, there always was, but it was just in the paddock and Mitch trusted these people not to make a big deal out of it. Not to mention that there was a huge difference between fucking somebody and dating somebody - the first one was something most of them have done at some point, the other was a death sentence to a career in motorsports.

One of his questions was answered the very next day when it became clear that it wasn’t just a one-time thing. Artem came to his hotel room and Mitch wasn’t really expecting anything, was just hoping that they’d watch a movie and stay up till dawn just talking and laughing like they used to do. But Artem pushed him onto the bed, straddled his hips and kissed him like the world was about to end. Mitch noticed that was what Artem’s kisses were always like - passionate and a bit messy but very enthusiastic. Somehow he managed to make each kiss feel like a first.

“You know, I didn’t get to return the favour yesterday.” Artem smirked when they broke apart minutes later, Mitch moaning weakly when he felt his dick twitch in his boxers.

“Artem, you don’t ha-” He was quickly silenced with a heated kiss.

“I want to.” Artem’s eyes were soft and he was smiling at Mitch like he was the most precious thing in the whole world and Mitch couldn’t have denied him even if he’d wanted to. He just closed his eyes and nodded.

Artem gave him a quick kiss (unusually chaste, why was it making Mitch’s head spin?) before sliding off the bed, so that he was kneeling between Mitch’s legs.

“Just so you know, I’ve no idea what I’m doing.” Mitch looked down to see Artem smiling at him shyly, bottom lip between his teeth and Mitch couldn’t stop himself from running his thumb over it. Artem swiped his tongue over the tip of his finger and Mitch became painfully aware of how quickly it would be over. But Artem was shifting nervously on the floor and Mitch decided his dignity was nothing if losing it meant reassuring the Russian at least a little bit.

“I’m about ten seconds away from coming in my pants right now. You really don’t have to do much.”

Artem chuckled at that and then he was leaning in, his tongue slipping beneath the leg of Mitch’s boxers as Mitch stopped breathing.

 

***

 

Okay, so maybe having sex with a guy he was in love with, while at the same time fooling around with the guy who was in love with him wasn’t Mitch’s smartest idea.

In the end Artem found out. Or maybe rather found _them_ . It was towards the end of the season, Mitch and Alex had been just talking but then Alex leaned in and suddenly they were making out and Mitch _really_ needed to talk to Alex about this. But… maybe later. Alex’s hands had just slipped onto Mitch’s arse, under his jeans, to bring their hips together…

“Oh! Sorry. I didn’t… You… I was just…”  Artem was staring at them with wide eyes and red cheeks, gesticulating vaguely.

Mitch almost fell over himself trying to get away from Alex, who in turn tried to get away from him and they just sort of crashed _into_ each other instead of jumping apart like they had meant to. When they finally managed to untangle themselves, they ended up on opposite sides of the garage in one second flat.

Mitch looked between Alex and Artem, who now looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh, unable to decide what he should do.

As it turned out, he didn’t need to do anything - Artem did it for him.

“Sorry.” He said again with a smile before turning on his heel and leaving the garage.

He and Alex just sort of _stared_ at each other, not saying anything.

“What…?” Alex started but cut himself off quickly, glanced towards the open door then went back to staring at Mitch. “You don’t think he’ll tell anyone?

Mitch shook his head. He didn’t feel like explaining to Alex exactly why he was so sure of it.

 

***

 

Artem was standing by the Russian Time garage, scrolling through something on his phone. He looked mildly surprised and rather amused but not upset and should Mitch feel bad that it made him slightly angry?

He didn’t say anything, just grabbed Artem’s arm and pulled him to the back of the garage, hidden from sight.

“I didn’t know you had a thing with Alex.” Artem said when Mitch failed to do so for a good minute.

“I don’t.” He protested weakly.

Artem raised an eyebrow. “His tongue was down your throat and his hands were on your arse.”

Mitch closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn’t know what was going on, but was fairly sure he could explain everything to Artem except he was afraid to tell the truth (“Yeah, so I’m kinda in love with you but I think Alex might be falling for me…” - nope, he wasn’t quite there yet) and didn’t really want to lie and say it didn’t mean anything, that it was just sex. And he didn’t know what Artem was thinking, could probably guess that he was unhappy Mitch hadn’t told him, fooled around with him without telling Alex. It would be okay if it _was_ just sex but Mitch had known for a long time it was more for all three (or at least two) of them. He just refused to accept it.

“I would’ve backed off if you’d told me.” Artem carried on in a soft tone and Mitch wanted to scream and break something and cry and for Artem to take him in his arms and tell him it was okay, that it meant something.

He didn’t realise all his emotions showed on his face until he noticed Artem staring at him with a conflicted expression.

“I don’t want… oh fuck this!”

The kiss was messy and kind of painful and Mitch’s heart broke that little bit more when Artem’s hands landed on his shoulders to gently push him away. Mitch determinedly kept his hands fisted in Artem’s T-shirt.

“Mitch.” Artem said warningly. “Does Alex know?”

Mitch shook his head, fully aware that Artem knew the answer himself anyway. “I wanted to tell him so many times and I just…”

Artem seemed lost, unable to decide what he should do. Mitch hoped it meant that he hadn’t messed up too badly, that maybe Artem really did want him.

“Please fuck me?” His voice sounded broken but he felt kind of broken too so it was okay.

Artem widened his eyes. “Mitch, I-”

Mitch’s fingers tightened in Artem’s T-shirt. “Please.” He didn’t care how desperate he looked or what Artem thought of it. He needed to know exactly what he would be missing. He needed to know what it felt like to have Artem inside him, so that he would have something to torture himself with later.

He could see Artem hesitate, as he looked around them nervously. “But not here.”

Mitch really didn’t care where or who would be watching. He didn’t care about anything as long as he’d be finally getting Artem’s dick in his arse. But he had a nagging suspicion it wasn’t something Artem needed to hear so he just nodded instead.

Artem’s hands were shaking when he opened the door to his hotel room. Mitch knew him well enough, better than anyone else, to be able to tell that he still wanted to say something. So he waited patiently, his back against the now-locked door, biting his lip as Artem paced back and forth.

“Do you… Are you in love with him?”

_It’s you I’m in love with, you fucking idiot!_

“No.”

“Is he in love with you?”

Of course, trust Artem to hit the nail straight on the head.

Artem stopped pacing and was now standing in the middle of the room, right by the bed, and looking at Mitch expectantly and a bit knowingly.

“I don’t know.” Mitch answered truthfully. “He might be.”

“You were... _fooling around_ with him before we first-”

“Yes.”

Mitch could see the next question coming, dreaded it already.

“Then why didn’t you stop me when I kissed you? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Mitch gritted his teeth and kept his expression neutral as he stared at Artem. He could practically see the proverbial lightbulb flashing above the Russian’s head but he hadn’t quite figured it out yet. So Mitch decided not to let him, striding over to where Artem was standing and kissing him.

At first, Artem was mostly passive - Mitch could tell he was still _thinking_ and it annoyed him. “Please.” He said again before diving in for another kiss.

Artem finally started responding to him, tugging at his clothes impatiently. Mitch was still angry (mostly at himself) and he could tell Artem was too, even if it was for completely different reasons. This wasn’t going to be slow and gentle and that was okay. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if Artem was to be tender and careful and _loving_. He’d just break down. Fast and dirty and hard - he could do that, didn’t expect anything more.

“Undress.” Artem told him, as he did the same.

He ended up on his back with Artem on top of him. He liked it this way, liked when Artem finally let himself settle on top of Mitch, liked the weight of him.

“I’ve no idea what I’m doing.” Artem whispered against his lips, echo of that time months earlier and Mitch kissed him again just to give himself a distraction.

“Let me blow you first.” Mitch asked, Artem’s responding groan going straight to his cock. He knew it could be the last time he got to do this. Not so much because of Alex, but because the season was coming to an end and he didn’t expect to be in GP2 next year. So he wanted it to be good, wanted to remember every second of it.

“Sorry, too close.”

And Mitch shuddered because it was so hot that he was the one who had that effect on Artem without even having touched him anywhere below his waist.

“Wanna finger me? Or should I do it? It’s fine either way.”

Artem’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed audibly. His tongue swiped over his lips and then he kissed Mitch messily.

“Talk me through this?” He asked with a sweet smile and for a second Mitch forgot this was exactly what he wanted to avoid - Artem being all gentle and caring. But Artem _was_ gentle and caring. That was just the kind of person he was, Mitch shouldn’t expect him to suddenly do a 180.

“Yeah.” He’d never heard himself sound so breathless before. “Yes.” He repeated. “My bag, front pocket.”

Artem leaned over the side of the bed and quickly came up with a half-empty bottle of lube and a condom. He shook the bottle in front of Mitch’s eyes meaningfully and Mitch swatted at his thigh.

“Oh shut up. As if you didn’t masturbate.”

Artem laughed, kissed him again (sometimes Mitch got the impression that Artem liked making out more than the actual sex), then sat back on his hunches and looked at Mitch expectantly.

Mitch shuddered when he noticed the way Artem’s eyes ran up and down his body before focusing on his face again. Mitch bent his knees, spread his legs a bit more, moaned weakly when Artem’s eyes followed the movement.

“Just get some of that,” he nodded towards the lube, “on your fingers. The general idea is the same as with a girl. Start with two.” He added as an afterthought.

Artem hummed, his hands running up and down Mitch’s thighs. “You know, I _have_ fingered myself before.” Artem grinned when Mitch made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “Nothing serious, just, you know, in the shower while having a wank.”

“Jesus Christ, you’ll be the death of me.”

The thought of Artem in the shower, water running down his abs, one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly, while the other…

“Shit. Is it possible to come just from a fantasy?” He asked as Artem started pressing small kisses to his legs, beginning at his knees and slowly making his way up, flicking his tongue over the skin from time to time. “How many fingers?”

Artem smirked at him from where he’d settled between Mitch’s thighs. “Three.”

Mitch moaned and ran his fingers through Artem’s hair, tugged at it a bit. “You’re…” He didn’t quite know how to finish that sentence, hoped Artem somehow got what he meant like he usually did.

Artem shot him a quick smile before leaning in to lick at Mitch’s hipbone. Mitch expected a blowjob, something Artem had got very good at very quickly, but Artem seemed determined to surprise him as much as possible and instead went lower. First he licked at Mitch’s balls for a moment, one of his hand stroking his cock a couple of times. Then he spread Mitch’s legs further and just went for it, flicking his tongue over Mitch’s hole.

“Fuck.” Mitch practically sobbed. He loved it, always had, but he didn’t expect Artem to just… not that he was complaining. Even if he’d wanted to, this simple move was enough to render him incapable of stringing together a single coherent sentence.

He felt Artem smile against his arse, his tongue circling lazily before slowly pressing against the tight muscles. And then Artem pressed his finger inside, his tongue licking around it and Mitch heard himself babbling, didn’t even know quite what he was saying, no longer in control of his mouth.

“Fuck, Mitch. This is so hot. _You_ are so hot.” Artem still had one finger inside him but he quickly withdrew it. Mitch used the time it took Artem to get some lube on his fingers and press two of them back inside to just breathe and think about something unpleasant so that maybe he wouldn’t come as soon as Artem touched him.

Artem pushed his fingers deep inside him in one swift move, just the way Mitch liked it, even though there was no way Artem had known that. And then he crooked his fingers right into Mitch’s prostate and Mitch wasn’t sure if this was beginner’s luck or if maybe Artem did this to himself more often than  
Mitch had thought.

“This is gonna be over embarrassingly quickly.” He said breathlessly, surprised that he could still put together a grammatically correct sentence.

“Good. You look so hot right now, I don’t think I’d last long.”

Artem worked him open quickly, pushed a third finger inside him and Mitch had always liked this but this was something else entirely. It felt as if his whole body was burning up in the best way possible.

Artem’s mouth just wouldn’t leave Mitch’s skin. He pressed kisses to his collarbone, sucked on his neck, kissed him hard until Mitch thought he’d never breathe again.

“Artem.” He gasped. “Artem, you’ve gotta fuck me now before I come just from this.”

“Fuck.” Artem rested his forehead against Mitch’s. “Okay.”

Artem pressed his fingers against Mitch’s prostate one more time before sliding away from him. Mitch watched him reach for the condom. “Wait.”

Artem looked at him, his hand automatically moving to draw circles on Mitch’s hip soothingly. “Yes?”

“Can we…? I mean…” He took a deep breath. “Without…” he nodded towards the square foil in Artem’s hand. “I’ve never… with Alex… I…”

Artem kissed him to stop him babbling. “It’s okay.” He smiled and squeezed Mitch’s hip reassuringly. “It’s okay.” Artem bit his lip uncertainly even as his eyes darkened. “Are you sure?”

Mitch nodded quickly. “I trust you. I want this.” He added.

Artem dropped the condom back on the bed and picked up the lube instead.

“Let me.” Mitch took the bottle from him without waiting for a reply and squeezed some onto his hand which he then wrapped around Artem’s cock.

Artem slapped his wrist after just a few strokes. “I don’t want it to be over in ten seconds.”

Mitch smiled at him and nodded. “How do you want me? This is good?” He asked, settling more comfortably against the bed.

“This is perfect.”

Mitch moaned when Artem grabbed his thighs and pulled him down, so that Mitch’s butt was on Artem’s thighs. Mitch wrapped his legs around Artem’s hips. “Yeah, just… come here.” He reached his hand out to Artem, wasn’t prepared for Artem kissing it quickly before lying down on top of Mitch.

“Like this?”

Mitch didn’t say anything, just nodded and wrapped his arms around Artem’s waist, his palms flat on Artem’s back. “Come on.” He urged.

Artem smiled at him, something very much like love in his eyes and Mitch shook his head to stop his thoughts from getting ahead of him. And then Artem was inside him and it was too much, too good.

“Ohmygod… oh my god…”

“Fuck, Mitch.” Artem looked overwhelmed and like he couldn’t believe this was happening. Which Mitch could totally appreciate. “You’re so good. You feel so good. I-” He cut himself off, kissed Mitch like he was drowning and moved his hips just a little bit and then couldn’t stop them from shifting another half an inch, it felt so good. “ _Mitch_.” He sounded almost pained.

“Move.”

Mitch knew that if he wanted Artem to fuck him properly, the way he liked to be fucked, he’d have to let him change the position. But it just felt too good to have him so close, to be able to wrap himself around Artem and just let him fill Mitch’s senses. He wasn’t ready to give him up yet. He didn’t think he’d ever be ready to give him up if he was being honest.

Artem angled his hips differently and then the tip of his cock was brushing against Mitch’s prostate each time he pushed inside. Mitch made a choked off sound, pulled Artem closer so that they could kiss. He slid one of his hands down Artem’s back, onto his arse, used it to keep him still. Artem nodded, understood what Mitch wanted from him without words. Instead of thrusting, he grinded his hips against Mitch’s arse, his cock pressing Mitch’s prostate, making his head spin.

He licked his way into Artem’s mouth, stroked his back, his fingers digging into the skin when Artem shifted against him, the friction feeling amazing on Mitch’s cock. Mitch wasn’t going to last, he knew that, but he wanted to draw this out as long as he could. Maybe that wasn’t reasonable and earlier he’d thought it’d be killing him emotionally but he had been wrong. It felt amazing and maybe it would hurt him later - it _probably_ wouldhurt him later - but he didn’t care. In that moment all that mattered was how breathtakingly good it was - better than any sex he’d ever had, bar none.

“Oh, okay.” He gasped, pushing at Artem’s shoulder. “Fuck me.”

Artem got what he meant straight away, shifted back onto his knees and then the next thrust was hard and deep and right against Mitch’s prostate.

“Yeah, just like that. Come on.”

Artem grasped both Mitch’s hands and brought them up above Mitch’s head, linked their fingers together and somehow it felt more intimate than Artem’s cock in Mitch’s arse.

Artem kept his thrusts deep and hard but steady and long at the same time. Each time he pulled back, Mitch’s hips tried to follow on their own accord. Artem leaned down to kiss him again, although it was more him just licking at Mitch’s mouth because Mitch lacked the coordination to do… well, anything, really. This was so good, Artem inside him and above him, their fingers still linked, the same way their hips were, and Artem kissing him, licking at his skin, flicking his tongue over Mitch’s nipple… Mitch didn’t think anything could ever match this.

“You really-oh…” Mitch broke off with a moan when Artem gave a particularly hard thrust. “Love kissing.”

“I lo-” he shook his head and he kissed Mitch once more before moving away, untangling their fingers so that he could grip Mitch’s thighs, move them up and further apart. “Yeah, I guess.”

He started fucking him hard and fast and Mitch knew he had been going to say something, ask something but quickly forgot what it was. He squeezed around Artem, made a high-pitched sound when it made Artem give a jerky thrust that took Mitch’s breath away.

“Fuck, Mitch.” Artem was staring at him in awe, sweat dripping down his face, his hair plastered to his forehead and there were so many emotions in Mitch’s chest, he couldn’t tell them apart anymore. “You should see yourself now. So hot.”

And Mitch wanted to tell him that he was just thinking the exact same thing about Artem, but all he managed was a long, drawn-out moan.

“You really love it.” This wasn’t intended as dirty talk. Artem’s voice was too fond, too full of… something. But it made Mitch moan anyway. It felt like Artem praising him and that was doing things to him that dirty talk never had.

It flitted quickly across his mind that Artem had no idea. It wasn’t just getting fucked that he loved, although he did, so much. It was Artem. Mitch would be perfectly happy to sit around watching movies all day, eating pizza and cuddling, and maybe doing other couply things he’d never really wanted before. Because he loved Artem. So he’d love whatever they did as long as they were together.

“Hey, you still with me?”

Artem’s hand was on his cheek, brushing away the wetness there, and when did Mitch start crying? Artem slowed down his thrusts, made them softer, more gentle, but didn’t stop.

“Don’t stop.” Mitch begged.

“You’re crying.” Artem said but Mitch was happy to find that his hips picked up the pace again.

“Yeah.” Mitch said. “It’s just… intense. I’m fine. I’m-oh… great.”

Artem was fucking him hard again, making the headboard slam against the wall. Mitch felt mildly sorry for the poor bastard who had the bad luck of sharing the wall with them for exactly one second before Artem’s hands shifted to his hips, digging into the skin and Mitch hoped there’d be marks there the next day.

He crossed his ankles behind Artem’s back, his knees under Artem’s armpit and Artem didn’t have quite as much room to fuck Mitch properly as he had with Mitch’s knees pushed up against his own chest but he managed just fine.

“Fuck… I won’t last much longer.” Artem warned him and Mitch closed his eyes for a second, opened them back quickly when he realised he’d miss seeing Artem come. “Touch yourself?” Artem asked gently.

Mitch’s belly was warm and his balls were drawn up high and his cock was leaking all over his stomach… “No need.”

Artem made a broken sound as he couldn’t help but thrust into Mitch harder. “You’re killing me.” And, honestly, Mitch knew the feeling all too well.

Mitch bit his lip, focused on the feeling of Artem’s cock inside him, brushing against his prostate. Artem looked wrecked. Mitch has never seen him so desperate, so beautiful, so…

Artem’s thrusts were jerky, there was no rhythm to them anymore. Even without Artem telling him this, Mitch would have known he was close. His own orgasm, on the other hand, took him by surprise. He heard himself moaning, heard Artem’s name somewhere in there and this was the hardest he’d ever come.

Artem was still fucking him, slowly - uncertainly - now. It was quickly becoming uncomfortable, Mitch too sensitive, the feeling too much. Normally, he would’ve stopped this at this point but it was Artem and it might have been the only time. He knew Artem was more than ready to come, only holding back for Mitch’s sake.

“Come inside me?”

“Fuck.” Artem nodded eagerly. His gripped Mitch’s hips harder, pulled him closer. It didn’t take much. Three shaky thrusts before Artem went perfectly still, his hipbones digging into Mitch’s arse as he came deep inside him.

The look on his face was all Mitch imagined it would be and more.

 

***

 

They were lying next to each other, Mitch on his back and Artem on his side, facing him. Mitch could tell Artem was watching him, wondered what the Russian was thinking, but at the same time was too terrified of the answer to ask. He felt empty and he was reasonably sure that Artem’s cum was leaking out of him straight onto the sheets but couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Mitch?” Artem’s fingers were on his arm, drawing shapes but Mitch refused to open his eyes, afraid that if he did, there would be no stopping the tears welling up behind his closed eyelids. “I know you’re not asleep.”

“I’m not pretending to be.” Mitch replied, his voice surprisingly steady and calm.

The bed moved as Artem shifted, rested his head on Mitch’s shoulder, his nose in the crook of Mitch’s neck. His fingers were tracing over Mitch’s abs and it felt comforting rather than arousing.

“I really like you, you know?”

That was what Alex told him not so long ago. But Mitch’s feelings at those words were diametrically different in that moment.

“Artem, don’t…” Mitch begged.

Artem took Mitch’s hand and linked their fingers but otherwise ignored him. “You should tell Alex. He deserves to know.”

Mitch’s breath caught in his throat. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. But maybe…

He turned onto his side so that he could look at Artem, their noses almost touching. “Artem, are you-”

Artem shook his head with a sad smile and Mitch’s heart dropped. He sat up with every intention of leaving but Artem pulled him back.

“Hey, no. We _can’t_.”

Mitch knew he was right - logically. But he couldn’t help but wonder… they didn’t have to tell anyone, it could be just the two of them, just…

“I don’t think a long distance relationship is something either one of us needs on top of everything else.”

“We could make it work.” Mitch tried to argue but it sounded feeble even to his own ears.

“We could…” Artem paused, his brows furrowed and his bottom lip between his teeth. He seemed to consider something for a moment. Then he brought their joined hands up to his lips and kissed the back of Mitch’s hand with a small smile. “I have a proposition.”

Mitch raised his brows at the sudden change in Artem’s mood. “Okay?”

“What do you say we just… keep our options open?”

Mitch furrowed his brows in confusion, not sure if he understood correctly. “You mean, have an open relationship?”

Artem nodded, his cheeks a light pink colour again and Mitch untangled their fingers just so he could cup Artem’s cheek and kiss him. “This idea isn’t too shabby, actually.”

“So you agree?”

“I guess. We should probably talk about it but… yeah, this could work.”

Artem kissed him again and Mitch felt light and kind of happy even though he didn’t fully understand what had just happened.

There were three words right there on his tongue but he didn’t think the two of them were quite there yet. Artem wouldn’t freak out, wouldn’t suddenly change his mind and tell Mitch to fuck off. Mitch had told him he loved him before, wasn’t sure if he meant it all that differently now, but he couldn’t tell whether Artem would know that.

Artem chuckled. “I love you too, you arsehole.” He said with a warm smile and Mitch just gaped at him. “Hate to break it to you but you’re an open book.”

“God, I hate you.” Mitch moaned, pressed his face into Artem’s chest and he could both hear _and_ feel Artem’s laughter. Everything felt like it used to be when they first became teammates, except better because now they could cuddle naked instead of fully clothed, and Mitch could distract Artem by going down on him instead of by throwing popcorn at him… Not that he’d stop doing that. There were just so many possibilities now. And Artem wanted this too, wanted _him_.

And this was the best deal he could hope for. Probably wouldn’t even want anything else. As much as he loved Artem, long distance relationships were hard in general. If you were moderately famous and hoping for a successful career in motorsports, they became impossible. This was good. This was just them doing what they’d always done except with some sex thrown into the mix. Lots of sex - if what had just happened was anything to go by, sex with Artem was something Mitch needed more of.

“Please tell me we don’t have anywhere else to be today?” Mitch looked at Artem pleadingly, prompting a laugh out of the Russian.

“Nah. We can just stay here until tomorrow. We’ve still got…” he looked at the clock on the nightstand behind Mitch “...a bit over fourteen hours before we have to be up.” He smirked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “And I promise you, we’re gonna use this time well.”

 


End file.
